In the beginning, mankind was given something simple and beautiful: a pair of simple chocolate cookies sandwiching some cream. The only other thing we'd ever need was milk. But then man looked around, saw all the other stupid novelty flavored desserts in the world and grew envious. No one knows why, because Oreos are awesome.

It started with a simple urge -- more cream -- and we were treated to our indulgences in the form of the Double Stuf Oreo. But like the great fables of the past, the greed of man was met with harsh consequences. When Pandora's Cookie Box was opened, to try and cram in more cream, all the great evils were unleashed upon the world: berry filling, unnecessary ice cream flavors, mega fillings, double deckers.

Like all evil things, some of these new entities were delicious. But in the end, we were left with something more devious, a wide swath of flavors each offered in their own container. We may have opened the box, but we didn't even get to keep the packaging.

Once upon a time, the cookie aisle was a simple place where we stood and thought to ourselves, "Well, I'd like to eat some Oreos, so I'll buy some" -- and we were all happy. Today, we stand face-to-face with cookie infinity, lost amid endless plastic fields of packaging, with only strange murals depicting "Fudge Cremes," "Neapolitans" and "Banana Splits." None of these things are Oreos. Yet, the packaging tells us otherwise.

We stand lost, adrift in a sea of outlandish rehashes. Like a series of Tim Burton remakes, these shades of a purer time serve as shameful reminders of the past we once had, unsullied by the hands of misguided attempts to breathe new life into something that was inherently great.

Humanity's vain desires of decadence have unleashed the Four Horsemen of the Acookielypse (it's probably closer to 12, really), and the only way to repent for our indignation about the higher cookie power is to assess the destruction that our passions have wrought.

Every. Flavor. Of Oreo.

As we attempt to map out all the dark entities scattered across the world aisle by our cookie masters, we have one universal truth that we can use as our guide: People really like Oreos, the black-and-white ones. What we don't know is whether an individual wants to drop up to $4 on a back of "Berry Creme Oreos" on the off chance that they're an improvement (Spoiler alert: They're not).

Despite the cries of the cookie public, our Oreo masters continue to withhold the guide to cookie enlightenment: the variety pack. While it's feasible to sample every variety available, it will run you at least $30 to purchase upwards of 10 boxes of Oreos, maybe one of which is comparable to the original. This is dumb.

While I, too, am a mere traveler wandering across the barren cookie landscape, I've made an attempt at mapping out the great Oreo cream sea in order to chart its great bounty. Here is my atlas:

View full sizeOnly a myth, for now: This is what an Oreo sampler would look like.Nick O'Malley, MassLive.com

This is the product of two separate grocery store visits netting me nine packages of Oreos. As you can see, I skipped out on buying each individual combination of chocolate/vanilla cookie variety, knowing that any cookie pioneer worth his salt has the Oreosmith talents necessary to swap a creme onto a different cookie, which was the case for some chocolate creams and the birthday cake varieties. As expected, they mostly tasted the same.

What do they taste like?

The success of the original Oreo cookie has a lot to do with its balance. It's not overly sweet and has a satisfying combination of crunch and creaminess. The signature "cookies & cream" combination has long since graduated to a standard ice cream flavor. It's a proven system.

The new flavors on the other hand, are out of control.

As opposed to the classic Oreo, where the cookies and cream played off each other well, leaving you wanting to grab another. Most of the new flavors are noxiously sweet, engineered to slap you in the face with whatever flavor of the day managed to get past focus groups. It feels odd to say that the new flavors feel artificial when we're talking about Oreos, but the flavorings are too monotone to be considered good. It's like an artist trying to paint a picture using only bright red highlighters that are duct taped to his hands -- with a somewhat similar smell.

Not all wacky Oreo flavors are created equal. There are some hits among this group. Still, they tend to make you feel like you're eating frosting by the ladle instead of a real life baked good.

With that in mind, here are 10 of the new Oreo flavors, ranked:

(Disclaimer: I couldn't find the Cookie Dough or Watermelon flavors when I went to Big Y and Stop & Shop. I'll continue to search for the missing flavors and adjust the rankings if I track them down.)

10. Banana Split Oreo - This filling is the equivalent of a man in a banana suit screaming "Hey! I'm a banana! Believe that I'm a banana!"

There's no actual split/sundae element, which was unfortunate, because I was counting on the red part (I don't even know if it was supposed to be another flavor) to make up for the banana. It turns out, it's all the same awful flavor.

I think I can still smell it on me.

9. Berry Creme Oreo - Not bad. This tastes like generic berry flavoring you'd find in your standard macro dessert. It was pleasant enough, but I have no interest to eat another one of these ever again in my life.

8. Peanut Butter Creme Oreo - Woah. This was not as sweet as I thought it'd be. It's a much duller, darker peanut butter taste than you'd expect. More like a Nutter Butter than Reese's Peanut Butter. But that dull peanut butter tastes doesn't mesh very well with the chocolate, the whole thing tastes dull and doesn't have that fun peanut butter/chocolate combo.

7. Chocolate Creme Oreo - Not as chocolatey as I hoped it'd be. It was just an Oreo, with less classic creme taste and a lingering taste of what I guess was chocolate-esque. Overall, it just kind of tastes like a cookie, which isn't bad. But it also isn't double chocolate.

6. Mega Stuf Oreo (Vanilla Cookie) - This tastes a whole lot like a Vienna Finger, which is good. It's all the effect of ripping one of those open to enjoy the sweet, sweet filling without all the work.

(Note: I didn't try the original Mega Stuf because, if you've gone through life without taking apart multiple Oreos and putting the cream into one cookie, you've obviously been eating Oreos wrong this entire time.)

5. Mint Creme Oreo - Now we're talking. This is a creamy thin mint.

I love over-the-top-sweet mint mixed with chocolate flavors. So, even though the mint flavor was a little out of control -- like a box of Andes mints fired out of a t-shirt cannon -- it was still enjoyable.

4. Birthday Cake (Chocolate Cookie) - I've long been a proponent of "birthday cake" as a flavor, probably because I've largely been invulnerable to overly sweet things and may or may not still have the palate of a 12-year-old. Still, this combination works well as a vessel for that little funfetti party of creme between the cookies. The chocolate cookies don't do too much to complement the flavor, but they do get out of the way while providing that crunchy/creamy texture.

3. Triple Double Oreo - At a certain point, this thing has to stop masquerading as a cookie. The original Oreo was pushing the limits as it was. But this is really just a miniature layered cake consisting of thin biscuits and icing.

The Triple Double takes some game planning to eat. You can't just pop it into your mouth and expect to avoid getting Oreo dust where you don't want it. But when you do corral this beast, it's a much more well-rounded flavor that you'd expect. It's not overpowering and had a bunch of different textures and flavors unbecoming of this group. It really eats more like a dense cake then a sugar-rush cookie.

I too had a childhood, so I've done custom Oreo sandwiches before, but the mixture of the chocolate and the classic really came together well. Maybe I was doing it wrong at the lunch table.

2. Birthday Cake (Vanilla Cookie) - The only exception to the chocolate vs. vanilla cookie rule. This Birthday Cake Oreo has the same filling, but the vanilla cookie on the outside is playing for the same team, adding another dimension to the bright, sweet icing on the inside. It's less of a contrast than a complement, which results in a cookie that actively knows what it's doing as a dessert, a rarity among these other concoctions which are random Candy Land checkpoints slapped between two chocolate cookies.

1. Marshmallow Krispy Creme Oreo - Have you ever tried Rice Krispies Treats cereal? If so, this is the only thing I've ever encountered that's ever come close to replicating that taste.

The smell is pungent and overpowering, the the taste is surprisingly reminiscent of a rice krispy treat, while still retaining a unique mellow flavor.

Bonus: A regular freaking Oreo - Going back to a classic Oreo after trying all of the new flavors is like trying a bunch of slices of pizza topped with lasagna, french fries and chicken nuggets from a mediocre-quality joint before going back to a place that does it right and eating a slice of cheese or pepperoni. It's just so much less of a damn chore to eat. Sure, it's less exciting, but it just tastes good.

This is the only cookie I'd advocate eating more than four of in one sitting. The new flavors are too sweet to do anything other than give you a headache after you have more than a few. It's not dissimilar to pounding shots at a bar: Take a dozen and you run the risk of barfing it all back up.

The classic Oreo, though, remains snackable and versatile. Never sleep on the original.

The final word

The new Oreo flavors are like a new special on the menu. They're fun to try on a whim, but it's impossible to justify eating a whole box of them unless you're slowly munching on them over the course of a couple weeks. Even so, I have a hard time imagining anyone looking at a half-eaten box of Berry Cremes without thinking "Ugh, I'm never gonna finish eating these."

After so many years living in the olden days of black and white, Nabisco finally gave way to the vibrant allure of color and fantasy. Like Dorothy stuck in Kansas, we all willingly went along for the ride, thinking to ourselves that there was more out there than the humble cookie that we've called home for so long.

As soon as we peaked behind the curtain, though, we realized our folly. There is no cookie magic. It is all a sugary veil cast by tricksters looking to pull the sheet of icing over our eyes. Oz may seem like a wonderful magical land. But in reality, it's a harsh feudal dystopia filled with impoverished munchkins and militarized flying monkeys where the only safe haven is a closed off green police state under the rule of a false prophet.

But it's not too late. The Wizard of Oreo and the Good Witch of Nabisco know the way back. All we have to do is clap your red berry creme fillings together and tell ourselves "There's no cookie like home."

If you're lucky, you'll avoid feeling like you fell off a fence into a pig pen after you're done eating.

"I ate it so you don't have to" is a (somewhat) regular series by Nick O'Malley of MassLive.com.